A Better Man
by harrylee94
Summary: X-Men: Fist Class fic. Back in the Submarine, Erik realises what would happen if he turns his back on Charles and the others. But what are the reprocutions of this? Definite AU, Based through all the X-Men movies...
1. A Change of Heart

**AN - Okay, just so everyone knows, I'm going to be upsetting the entire universe of X-Men by writing this, so it may end up being a very long story...**

**Anyone who's reading this who hasn't seen the movie HAS TO SEE IT! It 's the best EVAR! Also, I'm kinda spoinling the ending for you...**

The mirrored room was lit by a cold blue light, making it seem almost as if it were a vast ocean, and he was trapped on all sides by endlessness, but there was only one thing that held his attention.

"May I ask you something?" Shaw asked as he stepped through the now closing door, his eyes unable to move from his mother's murderer. "Why are you on their side?"

Eric saw himself in his minds eye as a child, reaching out to the coin on the wooden desk, the one he now had in his pocket, as the man before him, the one who called himself Shaw, counted to three, his gun held pointed towards the woman behind him; his mother.

"Why fight for a doomed race who will hunt us down as soon as they realise their reign is coming to an end?"

He heard the shot.

Erik's body reacted before he could even think and his fist connected with the side of the strange helmet the monster before him was wearing, all his strength behind that one blow, but even as he turned back he knew something wasn't right. Shaw's features blurred as he moved his body back to face him, unfazed by the blow that should have sent him flying to the ground.

Unable to comprehend what had just happened, he just stared.

"I'm sorry for what happened in the camps." The man continued, no sorrow whatsoever showing in his eyes. They both knew what he was talking about. "I truly am." He lifted his finger up towards Erik's forehead, but he was too dazed to do anything.

Suddenly, it was as if he'd been hit with the same blow he had given the guy, and he flew back into one of the mirrored walls, the glass-like covering shattering as he fell, several pieces smashing into yet smaller shards when they hit the ground.

_Erik! Whatever you're doing keep doing it, it's starting to work!_ Charles' voice exclaimed as it drifted through the crack, though it weak, as though it were through water.

He turned back to face the figure stepping towards him.

"But everything I did," he continued, oblivious to the silent conversation, "I did for you." Erik began to pull himself up from the ground, trying to move faster but it was too late. "To make you, embrace it." He touched his chin and once again he was flying, the wall he came in contact with now completely collapsing.

_It's working._ Charles said as his side bust with the fires of pain, the voice now strong._ I'm starting to see him, but I can't yet touch his mind._

Realisation dawned on him. The helmet!

Once again regaining his standing position, he eyed the protected man.

"You've come a long way from bending gates." He smiled. "I'm so proud of you."

As the Nazi began to walk towards him, he felt the metal around him and pulled, pipes, iron bars, cables obeying his will, creating a cage for the beast within. But he blurred again, and dodged the bars that were supposed to hit. It didn't even bother him.

"And you're just starting to scratch the surface." He took another step forwards, forcing the metal away with no effort as Erik pushed with all his might, and yet still it didn't stop him. "Think of how much further we could go." There was one bar left between them now, and he put as much of his concentration behind it as he dared. "Together."

Erik let his control over the bar wane, forcing some towards his last hope, but it wasn't enough to hold the immensely strong man before him, and he became trapped, unable to move. He let himself look defeated, making himself look away, like he had done as a child. The bar was constricting his chest and it was getting harder to breath, but the time wasn't right.

Shaw came up to his ear. It was too close, but he made himself bare it. "I don't want to hurt you, Erik. I never did."

Ein…

"I want to help you." His cold hand rested on Erik's neck.

Zwei…

"This is our time. Our age." He could feel his eyes staring at him, but what got to him were his words. "We are the future of the human race." We _are_ the future! It _is_ our time! His words made sense! Why hadn't he listened before?

Suddenly he remembered the kids, the camps… his friend.

"You and me son." He cringed inwardly at his words. Son? How dare he call him that! He destroyed his life! He and every other man like him! Destroying his world and treating him like a lab rat, his family like cattle! What he was suggesting would be the next holocaust! He was going to turn the mutants into the next stage of Nazis! "This world could be ours."

He knew what he had to do.

"Everything you did made me stronger…" Erik said, knowing that Shaw would believe he was talking to him, but it was really for the only other person who could hear them. "…made me the man I am today." He needed Shaw to believe him. "Is it the truth?" he asked. "I've known it all along."

He looked at the grinning man. "You are my liberator."

Drei!

The cable he'd been slowly edging towards them struck, pulling the helmet from its wearer's head, who swiftly turned to snatch it back, but by then it was too late. "Now Charles!"

In mid reach Shaw froze, staring up at the object that had protected him from the telepath. Now that his hand was no longer pushing the beam into his chest, he let it drop and walked around the murderer, examining his precious head piece. When he had it in his hands, he felt the urge to put it on, but something kept him back; a feeling that he couldn't quite place.

Returning his attention to the frozen figure in front of him, his shook his head free of such thoughts. He imagined himself killing the man before him, the man of his dreams, his nightmares, how he would be helpless, like he himself and his mother had been all those years ago. He fingered the coin in his pocket.

_Be the better man, Erik!_ Charles exclaimed. _There has to be another way!_

"But what else could we do?" he stepped back from the statue, grasping the helmet in one hand, his weapon in the other. "I can't hold him, and as soon as you let him go he's going to release that nuclear energy and who knows what would happen!"

The silence spoke a thousand words.

"He has to die."

_I know._ Came the reply after several moments of silence._ Wait just a minute, I'll be right…_

"…with you."

Turning around, he found that the doors had slid open, and Charles was now walking towards him, a hand held at his temple in concentration.

"Charles? What are you…" before he could say another word, the crack of a shot reverberated around the room, along with the soft, unmistakable thud of a body hitting the floor.

The smoking gun fell from the telepath's shaking hand, eyes staring blankly at something just behind him, a small cry escaping his lips. Turning, he saw the body of Shaw… of Schmidt, lying lifeless across the wreckage of their battle.

Erik could only stare. When he'd imagined this moment, ever since he was a boy, he'd always thought he'd be happy, relieved. Instead, all he was feeling in his gut was the flair of anger with the realisation that his moment had been stolen from him. He could never avenge his mother now.

"Why?" he felt his hands close into fists as he tried to control his rage, his teeth gritting together in his fury. "Why didn't you let me kill him? He was mine! I deserved it! I needed to…!"

"Erik!" When he turned back he found his gaze locked with Charles' ice blue eyes, their glare strong and cold. "Listen to yourself! You think this is all about you? You think this was all so you could get your revenge? So you could avenge your mother?" the young professor took a step forwards. "This was more than just about you. It was about the world! The future of billions of innocent lives! Did you even think about them? For one second?" He made to reply but Charles stopped him. "If you had killed him…!" He took a deep breath, calming himself and his voice. "If you had killed him, you would have been no better than what you had been before we met."

Erik remembered the mindless hunter he'd been for over half of his life, how all he had done was eat, sleep and kill, how he'd known that once his task was over, his life would be meaningless. When he had met Charles and his ideals, he had given him a reason to continue. He felt himself slowly release his rage and he let his eyes drop as the guilt crept into his stomach.

"You will learn to accept what I've done as a kindness my friend." He felt the smaller man's hand on his shoulder, its warmth giving him reassurance. "But for now we must focus on the present. I believe the others are beginning to return."

Nodding numbly, Erik let out a long breath, trying to still the chaos that was plaguing his thoughts. It was over. Schmidt was dead, and with him the war that had consumed him for the majority of his life. Maybe it was time for peace.

"We should probably bring him out with us." Charles said, glancing at the corpse lying beside them. "We'll have to give him a proper burial."

"A proper…?"

"We are not like him, Erik!" the young man squeezed his shoulder. "We will not step so low as to leaving the dead unburied, even if they would have done so themselves. We are the better men." The telepath gave him a small smile and moved over to what had once been their enemy. "Could you give me a hand here please?"

They had taken Shaw's body out on a sheet of metal, Erik moving it through the hallways and Charles making sure he didn't fall off when it hit one of the walls. As spacious as the submarine was, or rather had been, the crash when it had been dropped on the beach had compacted everything, wires hanging from the walls and the ceiling which they could have gotten caught up in had Erik not moved them out of the way.

Once they had finally exited the marine craft, the two groups of mutants, and one human, emerged from their separate sides of the beach, some looking more injured than others. When Azazel saw his leader's body he gave a barely audible growl, though he refrained from doing anything.

Had it not been for the wreckages strewn across the sand and the broken bones of the once tall and proud trees, the place could have looked quite beautiful. As it was, the fires from the burst engine were still burning, and the ships were waiting ominously in the distance.

Erik could feel something about them changing.

"The ships…" he said, putting Shaw on the ground as he stepped towards the water's edge. "They're aiming their weapons at us!" He heard Charles come up beside him, along with the shocked gasp he let slip through his lips.

Moments later, the blue sky became clouded by the missiles and rockets propelling themselves towards them.

Azazel, Angel and Riptide vanished in a puff of red smoke as the nuclear weapons came ever closer, disappearing to some unknown safe haven, leaving the others to their fates.

Lifting his hands, Erik reached out to the mass of metal approaching them, feeling their weight, their surfaces, their propulsion through the air. As soon as he felt his grasp over them take hold, they ceased to move, hovering in the air not a hundred yards away. He gasped, the pressure on his powers greater than he had thought it would be, but he held on, slowly turning them around.

"Erik?" came Charles' voice from somewhere beside him, but he ignored it, knowing what the younger man was thinking.

_I won't hurt them._ He thought, unable to concentrate on anything else. _I just need to send the rockets away._

_I understand._ Came the reply.

Erik aimed the weapon towards the ocean somewhere between them and the humans just off shore, forcing them forwards with a slight push of his hand, disintegrating on impact with the water. With the threat gone, the exhausted man sunk to his knees, the full effects of what he'd done that day finally catching up with him.

It was as if all the strength from his body had left him, and he found himself unable to focus on anything, his vision doubling and a spinning sensation in his head, as though he'd gotten caught up in a rotor blade. It made him feel sick.

He put his hands on the ground to steady himself, taking deep breaths as he tried to blink the spots away.

"Erik, are you alright?"

Turning his head, he saw that Raven had knelt beside him and was rubbing his back, her yellow eyes frowning at him in their concerned way.

Taking another breath he pushed himself up. "Yeah… Just getting the whiplash."

Standing up he stumbled slightly but caught himself before the shape shifter had to help and turned to face the others. Banshee's suit was still smouldering from the fight he had had with Angel, and Havok's had been ruined, the disk on the front missing. Beast and Mystique seemed relatively unharmed, but he knew that appearances could be deceiving.

Charles was stood a few metres away, a slightly nervous Moira coming up behind him from the wreckage of the plane. She'd probably tried to stop them from firing them, but it was evident that her pleas had gone unhindered.

"So… what now?" asked Alex, turning to the two oldest men in the group.

The young professor stepped forwards. "Now we have to finish what we've started."

The kids frowned at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sean asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Erik sighed and turned to face the body he'd left next to the submarine. "It means I've got to say goodbye to… an old friend."

**AN - For those of you who noticed, yes I did change what Erik said to Shaw. I thought it would be better for him to think of himself as a man, not a monster by the end, which Charlse had tried to show him before...**

**Arg! That took forever! And the rest is going to take even longer! I swear this is going to turn into something like my Harry Potter fic! TO MANY CHAPTERS!**

**I hope you guys liked it, and like in my HP FF, I will be getting you guys involved again, but not just yet... Mwahaha!**


	2. Goodbye My Love

It had been a week since the Cuban beach. Sebastian Shaw's body buried in an unmarked grave a few hundred metres inland, deep enough for no one to accidentally dig him up. Charles had somehow convinced one of the ships to stay behind and they had been able to get aboard with the help of a mind controlled soldier. The rest of the journey back to America was tense, every time one of the members of the crew came into the storage room they were hiding in they held their breath as their eyes passed unseeing over them.

Once they had returned to the main land some hours later, they 'borrowed' a helicopter, and by the time the sun was rising the next morning, they were all safely back in their rooms in the Xavior Mansion. They spent the next day resting, and it wasn't until around dinner that any of them had really seen each other.

For the rest of the week, the training resumed, each of the kids going off to continue working with their abilities or, in Hank's instance, finding ways to help them; the chest disk for Alex took a bit longer to make than they thought, though it wasn't surprising considering what had happened to him since the last time.

However, there had been one problem that had been hovering over Erik's head since the word 'go'; Moira MacTaggert.

It was true that she had more than helped them over the past few months, and she had become particularly close with Charles, but he knew that she couldn't stay. Whether it was because of her job or her loyalty towards her country, he knew she was going to leave, and, even if she didn't want to, even if she fought to her teeth not to, she would tell them where they were, and they all knew what would happen then.

It was that morning, one week after the Cuban beach, when he decided to confront the young professor.

"Come in." came the voice from inside before Erik even had the chance to raise his hand to the oak door. He hated it when he did that. "Sorry." The voice continued, and he entered the room.

Charles was sat next to the fireplace in one of his armchairs, the chessboard set up on the table beside him. He had been reading the newspaper at some point, it's folded form had fallen down the side of the table, the title 'Cuban Missile Crisis Averted' written in bold across the front page with the image of some ships underneath.

"You wanted to see me?" Charles asked, motioning to the chair across from him, his deep blue eyes boring into his own, as though he were blaming him for something. Erik couldn't help but grin. If he wasn't blaming him now, he would be soon.

They sat there in silence for a moment, neither of them saying anything, just looking at each other. It came to a point that the metal manipulator knew he'd waited long enough. "You know what I'm going to say, don't you."

Charles sighed. "Moira."

He nodded. "Moira."

They continued to look at each other in silence again.

Charles turned to the chessboard. "White or black?"

He looked down at the board. "You choose."

The younger man turned the board around so that the white pieces were on Erik's side, making sure he didn't knock over any of the pieces. Erik looked at the pieces for a moment before looking up at his friend. "You're not going to…"

"No."

He nodded again and put his hand to his chin, considering his first move. He moved a pawn. "She knows too much."

"Hmm…" Charles moved. "I know." He sighed, "I've been thinking about that myself." He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth.

"She could tell the government where we are." Erik stated, moving another piece across the board.

"She wouldn't!" Charles cried, sitting up suddenly. "Not on purpose!"

"But under the right pressure she'd crack." He replied calmly, looking up at his friend. "I know I would."

This seemed to calm him, if only slightly, and the telepath returned his attention to their game, though he was still frowning. They continued their game for a while in silence, the grandfather clock out in the hallway the only sound penetrating their thoughts, but they both knew what had to happen. "I'll have to erase some of her memories."

Erik nodded. He knew it would be hard for him. It was obvious that the young man had developed feelings for the CIA agent, and it would be difficult letting her go, especially after everything that had happened to make their bond grow. That bond would all but vanish, and he would be left heartbroken. "There's no other way."

Charles took one of Erik's castles. "Check."

Moving his king to safety, the white player looked into the fireplace, the ashes from the previous fire still piled within the grate. "Look, I know it's hard, but…"

"Erik." Their eyes met. "Thank you." He smiled at him, then moved his bishop. "Check mate." With that he stood and left the room without another word, leaving the holocaust victim to ponder what had just happened.

As he studied the chessboard, he saw that his king was indeed trapped on all sides. Pushing it over with his right index finger, he stood to find out where Charles had gone, but considering how their conversation had ended, he had a feeling he knew.

Leaving the room, he made his way towards Moira's room, where he assumed she'd be, but only arrived to find it empty. He continued the search in the kitchen, but he only found Alex and Sean eating some toast, and Raven and Hank, trying to find the blue man's limitations, occupied the gym. That left outside.

As soon as he stepped outside the doors, he found both the agent and the professor in an unabashed lip lock, her hands holding his arms as his made their way up to her face, eyes closed in their moment of passion. It was only when Charles' hands went past her cheek and to his temples that Erik knew what he was doing.

As the young woman collapsed, the man who was so noticeably in love with her held her in his arms and he let his tears fall. _What have I done?_

'_You've saved us Charles.'_ He thought, trying to comfort his friend._ 'You've saved us all, and you've saved her.'_

The telepath sniffed and looked up at him, the sorrow flowing out from his blue eyes. _How? How could I have saved her? I just destroyed part of who she is!_

"You saved her from the confines of secrecy." He explained aloud. "She'll never have to hide what she knew, what they could have used to hurt you or her. She'll never be subjected to the guilt of betrayal or the pain of her lies." He started to walk towards them. "You saved her life Charles. You truly did."

The young man looked back down at the woman in his arms and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "You're right." He pulled her limp body closer to his. "It was for the best." He lightly kissed her on the forehead. "We should get her back to her apartment. Make it seem like she never left the morning we came here."

Erik stopped. "Would you like me to bring the car around?"

Charles nodded, not taking is eyes off of Moira's peaceful face.

The older man took off towards the garage by way of the house, walking quickly through the corridors until he reached the door to the large stone walled room. Once he'd opened the door, he got into the Ford and drove it round to the front, closing the metal exit on his way out.

By the time he'd gotten to where he'd left Charles, his friend had laid her out on the gravel, resting her head on his lap as he stroked her hair behind her ears. He couldn't help but feel sorry for him; having lost both his trust in the humans and the woman he loved in the same week must have been hard for him to bear.

It took a moment for the telepath to notice the car was there, and Erik didn't rush the realisation, leaving him to mourn in solitude for a moment. He picked her up gently, holding her under her knees and her back, putting her into the back seat through one of the side doors, letting her head rest on her shoulder.

"Would you like to drive?" Erik asked from the driver's seat, looking back at the scene.

Charles shook his head. "I'll stay with her." He got in next to her, closing the door behind him.

He was about to drive away when he remembered that they would be leaving the kids unsupervised.

"Don't worry. I've told Raven what we're doing."

Of course he had.

They left the grounds shortly after, and made their way towards New York.

Apart from to ask for directions, the journey was made mostly in silence. Erik started to panic a bit when Moira stirred in her slumber, but she didn't make any sounds from then on and continued in her oblivious sleep.

When they pulled up outside of a block of flats, they sat in the car for a few moments, wondering what to do.

"Do you want me to…?" Erik began, but he stopped himself when he realised that Charles would want to spend as much time as possible with her. Once he'd gotten out of the car, he opened the door for his passengers, looking up at the fairly new building. He could see the faces in the windows, watching them closely as they pulled her limp body from the car. He didn't want to think about what they might believe them to be doing, or to have done.

Moira's apartment was on the third floor, and the lift was out of order, so Charles had to carry her up two flights of stairs, and past the watchful eyes of the neighbours to Erik's dismay. When they finally got to the door, Charles pulled out her keys from her coat pocket, but he was unable to hold them, so they dropped to the floor. Not knowing who could be watching, the metal manipulator picked them up by hand and unlocked the door.

The room was a little messy, with clothes strewn across the floor and some of the drawers still open from her rush to change that morning some days before, though it wasn't unexpected. Her bed was made, though there were several books on mutation and evolution open on it, but Charles managed to lay her out between them. He kissed her on the forehead for one last goodbye and turned to face his friend.

The tears were gone now, but Erik could still see the sadness in his eyes. This was going to haunt him for a very long time. "We should go." Charles said. "She's going to wake up soon, and we mustn't be here when she does."

Putting the keys down on the bed next to the CIA agent, Erik put a reassuring hand on the young man and gently squeezed. Before he could react, he left Charles' side and made his way back towards the Ford parked outside, ignoring the stares he received from suspicious onlookers.

It took a moment for the grieving man to join him, but as soon as he was in the car they left.

When they were just pulling up to the main gates, Charles sighed.

"You know we couldn't have done it any other way." Erik said, turning to face him quickly before turning back to the drive. "Even if she had stayed here she would have been in danger. The CIA doesn't give up an agent so easily. They'd keep looking for her."

Charles nodded. "I know, but…"

"It was the right thing to do." He stopped the car just outside of the garage in order to open the door. "It was hard, but it was what had to be done. For the kids."

Charles didn't reply.

Slowly, the garage door swung open and they drove the Ford inside. Once they were out, and the exit was once again covered, they escaped through the door to the house, the hinges creaking slightly from the lack of oil. Erik made a mental note to fix that.

Everyone had gathered in the television room, and looked up at them from their conversations as the two men came in.

Raven stood and looked between them. "Where's Moira?"

Charles averted his gaze. "We… I…"

Erik could tell he was struggling, so he stepped forwards. "She's not coming back."

Everyone nodded, as though they had been expecting as much, though their eyes showed the surprise they were trying to hide. They had all liked the agent, in their own ways, and she had always supported them in whatever they were doing, right alongside Charles. It was a loss that they would learn to forget, but it was a loss all the same.

Hank shuffled nervously in his seat. "So… What now?" he asked, hoping to change the conversation. He succeeded.

Charles coughed. "Yes indeed. Where do we go from here?" He looked around at everyone. "How about we start with luch."

**AN - Haha! I finished this chapter sooner than I thought I would! Ah! This feels so satisfying!**

**Okay guys, I have a question for you; If Erik and Raven were to become teachers in Charles' school, whay would they teach?**

**I know Maths and Physics for Erik are probably going to be the most popular, but please don't forget that Charles and Hank could easily teach those as well!**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'm looking forward to writing the next one for you guys!**


	3. Cerebro

Everyone was sat around the kitchen table, munching on their sandwiches and various items of fruit, looking at each other, expecting someone to say something but not quite brave enough to pull it off themselves. It was infuriating!

Erik watched them cower in their silence, hiding in their politeness and fear. It was as though their minds, which were obviously bubbling with questions, were intent on their task at hand and nothing else. Another minute of silent eating went by. He sighed. Since no one else was going to do it…

"So what exactly do you have planned for this place?" he asked, turning to face Charles, who's plate only held the few crumbs he had dropped while eating.

"Yeah professor," Sean chipped in, "now that Shaw's gone-" Erik bit his lip at the name, "-what are we going to do now?"

Everyone looked at the now centre of the conversation.

Slowly, Charles let his gaze move onto each of them, last of all was Hank who was sat beside him. Erik started to take a sip of his water. "I think I might make this place into a school."

The metal manipulator choked on his drink, giving into a fit of coughs as Alex hit him on the back. "Are you…" he regained control over his breathing. "Are you insane? More children?"

"Hey!" Alex exclaimed, offended. "We're not children! You said so yourself!"

"Alex is right Erik." Charles continued, knitting his fingers together. "They are all old enough to start being known as adults." Alex smiled smugly. "Which is why they should help teach the younger ones when we bring them here." Everyone's faces fell. "What?"

"Seriously?" Sean asked. "We've got to…" he gulped, "teach?"

"Whoa! Hold up!" Alex held up his hands. "There is no way I'm going to stand in front of a bunch of kids and teach them how to do their times tables!"

Charles shrugged. "You were the one who said you weren't children any more. It's time you were treated like as such."

The blond boy visibly shrank in his seat under the scrutinising glares he was receiving from both Hank and Sean. Raven and Erik knew they'd have to have taught anyway, as, even if the blue woman didn't look like it, they were both too old to be ignored.

"Well that's all well and good," Erik said, resting his arms on the wooden table. He knew his friend would never change his mind, so he saw no sense in trying to change it, "and we can all discuss our jobs as teachers later, but how are we going to find them? Cerebro was the only thing that we could use to find anyone, and that's back at the CIA base."

Charles opened his mouth to answer, but Hank interrupted him. "I've still got all the original plans from the radar installation, so, with a little help maybe, I could rebuild it, here in the grounds." He looked at the telepath and had the decency to look embarrassed. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright Hank, and I think that would be a wonderful idea, but it can't be in plain sight." He twisted his mouth slightly in thought. "It may have to go underground."

Erik frowned. "But that would mean we'd have to get other people involved. _Human_ people." He picked his glass up from the table, ignoring the drops running down the side from when he'd been coughing. "They could tell the government. Who wouldn't? It's not exactly common among builders to dig a fifty foot hole in the ground. And with the war on…"

"Don't worry about it," Charles smiled at him, "I could just do what I did with…" his eyes became distant and he looked down at the table. It was still a soft area, Moira and the memory erasing, but it appeared to be the answer to everything those days.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, leaving the professor to recover his bearings and to finish their meal, putting their finished plates and glasses in the sink.

Once they had returned to their seats, Charles had regained his composure and was sipping on the tea that he'd left almost untouched throughout lunch. When Raven put a hand on his shoulder, he smiled at her sadly and put down his cup. Erik was sure that tea was the last thing the young man wanted, but with the others still watching, he knew it was best to leave things be.

"So-" Charles continued, turning to face the hairy blue man, "-how big does this hole need to be?"

* * *

><p>It didn't take long to find a contractor to work for them; after all, they thought it was going to be an extension. Every day, the workers turned up believing they were going to work on the new wing, and every day they left thinking about how well their day had gone digging the foundations, construction the frame and, slowly but surely, building the structure.<p>

What happened between, however, was an entirely different story.

In some senses, they were building an extension, but it was underground, meaning they had to dig up several tonnes of earth before they could even consider building anything.

Charles had decided that, along with Cerebro, several other reinforced rooms should be built for the practice of the young mutants' abilities without fear of being discovered, and, to most of the others' confusion, a hanger bay with a roof that slid away to the side. Of course, they had to hide the massive metal plate somehow, so, with a little suggestion from Hank, they turned it into a basketball court.

The entrance, however, was a bit more difficult to hide. At that moment in time, it was a lift covered with a small wooden shed, but it wouldn't take much to discover it, but there was nothing else they could do at that time.

Once the electricity had been connected and the earth that had been removed was returned to where it had been, all that was left to show their work was a shed and a fairly large bump in the ground, which they had been assured would dissipate in a few months. All that was left was the interior.

Hank was stood at the entrance of the spheroid room that was going to be 'Cerebro 2.0', looking down at his designs and muttering to himself, when Erik found him the day after the humans had left. Due to his features, the young genius had been forced to remain indoors while the construction had been taking place, so he was double checking everything to make sure they had followed his designs. So far, he hadn't complained.

"Everything in order?" the older man asked, grinning slightly as he watched the blue man jumped, dropping the plans onto the metal clad floor. He always enjoyed it when he scared them.

Bending down to pick them up, Beast growled slightly, not taking too kindly to the shock he'd just received. "No, actually." Erik frowned at him. "They put several of the panels in the wrong places." He pointed into the room.

The metal manipulator could feel the different densities in the metals that encased the walls, but, to the untrained human eye, it could easily have been overlooked; especially when they were all the same shape. "I'm sure it was an easy mistake to make. Not everyone is as intelligent as you are." He hit Hank in the back, but he backed off when he heard another unfriendly growl emerge from his throat. "Do you need any help?" He asked before things got out of hand.

Hank glared at him, but his eyes softened slightly at the prospect of getting the job done in less than half the time. "If I point out which metal plates go where, would you move them?" he asked, still not fully trusting the man.

"Of course." Erik looked offended. "Don't you trust me?" When Beast turned to walk down the walkway without answering, he smiled to himself. _Of course you don't_.

It was surprisingly bright in the enclosed room, though that was probably due to the floodlights that were blazing under the platform they were striding along reflecting off of the polished surfaces. The platform ended in the centre of the room, where a stand not unlike what was in the first Cerebro had been constructed, the wires leading back towards a computer station next to the entrance.

"So, what was it that you wanted me to do?" Erik asked, putting his hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the walls.

Hank gave him the plans. "You see, this one…" He started to point at the blueprints, but the older man stopped him.

"I can read it Hank."

Crestfallen, Beast backed away, grumbling about recognition, leaving the metal manipulator alone in the room. It didn't take him long to realise that he didn't understand any of the numbers written on the piece of paper, the scrawl illegible to his eyes. "Uh, Hank," he looked over his shoulder to find the young man's shoulders rise and fall in a sigh, "I can't read this."

Slowly, Beast turned back and took the blueprint from Erik's hands. He pointed at a square. "This is steel." He pointed at a sheet on the walls. "That is where it's supposed to be."

"But that's zinc." Erik said, frowning. He could feel where several sheets of steel were, but they were in several different places around the room.

"Exactly." Hank said, annoyance plain in his voice. "Now, you see…"

"Good afternoon."

They both turned back towards the entrance where the voice had come from.

"I see you're both working hard." Charles smiled at them before looking around the room, making his way down the walkway. "It's bigger than I remember."

"It is." Hank explained. "Because we're underground, the radio waves are dispersed when they his the soil, so there has to be a greater surface area in order to catch them all, otherwise it wouldn't work, and the different metals…"

"I think he's heard enough Hank." Erik said, rolling his eyes at the scientist's eagerness to show off.

"Oh no," the telepath stopped just in front of them, "I'm finding it quite fascinating." He turned to face the growling man. "Would you…?"

As the pair walked back down the walkway, Erik sighed and turned back to the walls. Those two were like kids in a candy shop when it came to what they could do, eyes bulging at everything new and exciting, their thoughts bordering on the naïve.

Slowly, he closed his eyes and let the resonance of the metal flow over him… through him. He winced at the mixed signals he was getting. It was all wrong. Now he was concentrating, he could feel how the walls were trying to pull away from each other, pushing at each other, trying to escape from their places. It was almost painful.

He reached out, calling to them, trying to comfort their wounds.

He made them move.

At first it was just one or two, but then it became four or five at a time, and at each change he felt the tension draining away as they accepted their new places, the vibrations beginning to intermingle and grow stronger, more comfortable.

When they were at last in their true homes, he opened his eyes.

"Erik?"

He realised there wasn't anything under his feet, and dropped almost five feet when the realisation struck him. Luckily, he'd regained enough of his alert mind to land, though he almost fell over from the impact.

"What the hell?" he asked quietly, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Since when could he fly?

"When indeed?" Charles asked, coming up to stand beside his friend. "Well done." The telepath put a hand on his shoulder. "I think you've just come a step closer to understanding your true potential."

"Amazing!" They both turned to look at the blue man looking around at Erik's latest handiwork. "How did you do that? You've gotten everything in it's right place!"

Erik shrugged. "They just… wanted to go there." He frowned. "It's hard to explain."

"Then don't explain it." His friend said, letting go of his shoulder. "The important thing is that you did it." He began to make his way out of the room. "I think it's about time we had a well deserved drink, don't you?"

**AN - Haha! Another chapter! This one annoyed me a bit, but I finally finished it!**

**For those of you wondering why I haven't put the underground in with the building, it's because the new wing's going to be built over it in a future chapter, so don't go complaining about it yet!**

**As for the questions I asked last time, Erik could be teaching; Literature, Defensive/Offensive classes, Mechanics, or both mechanics and def/off skill.**

**Also, Raven is either teaching; The Arts, or 'Blending in'. Also, yes, she is old enough to teach (remember, she's about the same age as CHarles when they first meet and, like Hank said, she ages half as fast as everyone else!).**

**The voting ends this week, so get them in soon!**

**Until next time!**


	4. Names and Places

"If this place is going to be a school, it's got to have a decent name!" Raven took another bite out of her sausage, "Something like… 'School for the Talented', or 'School for the Gifted'. You know!"

"Don't speak with your mouth full dear," Charles said, not looking up from the paper he was reading, pushing some mashed potatoes onto his fork, "it's unladylike." He turned the page over, "Besides," he turned to face her, "you're doing it all wrong." He smiled and shoved his food into his mouth. "Ewyone know you're no' 'uppo oo ee uner'ood!"

"I'm sorry what was that?" Raven asked, smiling back.

He swallowed. "Exactly."

Erik smiled at their exchange. It was something that any ordinary family would do, something that would be considered normal, and yet he couldn't help but watch their childish conversation evolve. He hadn't had anything like that. Even from a young age, he'd had to make sure he was never unaware of what was around him, and even then he had to assume the walls had ears.

Because of what the Nazis had done in the war, he'd lost his chance at having a childhood, and he'd had to grow up sooner than most children, always having to look out for himself and his family, and then to stop the pain that Schmidt had inflicted on him. He envied them.

Before the small game could be turned into the 'all out' food fight it was inevitably going to become, the metal manipulator decided to intervene. "So, what was this about a name?"

Raven turned to face him, cheeks bulging. Erik couldn't help but snigger, the image of a hamster suddenly coming to mind. She blushed slightly and tried to swallow her mouthful as quickly as she could, hitting her chest to make sure it went down. "Well, everyone knows that a school's got to have a name, so why not this one?"

She had a fair point, and everyone knew it. Who would come to a school with no name?

"I know!" Sean put his cutlery down and put his hands out in front of him, looking at each of them, "What about, 'The School for the Awesome'?" He held his hands out, palms facing the ceiling, a proud look on his face.

Alex shook his head. "Not even you would come to a school called that!"

Banshee let his arms drop onto the table. "Oh? And what would you call it?"

"I'd call it…" he blinked, "uh…" he stabbed his last remaining sausage with his fork, "I don't know! But I wouldn't call it that!"

Hank raised his knife, waving it back and forth as he finished his mouthful. "Since it's going to be here, and it's Charles' house, we should put his name in it. You know like, 'The Xavior School for the Talented'."

"But it's children, not just 'the talented'." Charles pointed out, folding his paper up.

Erik shrugged. "'Xavior's School for Gifted Youngsters' then." Raven turned to stare at him, her yellow eyes piercing his comfortable thoughts. "What?"

"That's perfect!" she exclaimed, her smile brightening. She got out of her seat and walked over to him. "You're a genius!" she kissed him on the cheek.

Erik could feel his face turn red. "Well… I…"

"Great, we have a name. But now what?" Alex asked, ignoring the man's embarrassed expression (to his relief). "You said we have to teach. But teach what? I didn't even get to do my exams!"

Charles smiled at him. "Don't worry. You and Sean are far too under qualified to teach, so you'll be attending the lessons." The young man's smiled brightly at their looks of relief and disbelief. "Since everyone else is either old enough or do in fact have the qualifications, then they will be teaching."

"What about Raven?" Sean asked, turning to face the blue woman. "She's not old enough is she?"

"I'm older than I look." She explained, and made her way back to her seat, resuming her yet unfinished meal, a sly look on her face when let her eyes wander over to the still red man.

Erik couldn't take his eyes off of her. Had she always been so beautiful? He'd noticed it before, but now he was... appreciating it. Was that really all it took for him to open his eyes, to notice her for what she really was; a small kiss?

Shaking himself mentally, he turned his attention back to the task at hand. "Since that only leaves the four of us to… teach," he shuddered, "surely you can see that we'll need help."

Charles nodded. "And with Cerebro's, we'll find it." The younger man smiled. "But for now, I think we should be worrying about _what_ we will teach." He turned to face Raven. "What would you like to teach my dear?"

She thought about it for a moment, her face taking a neutral form until her lips formed a mischievous smile. "Do you remember what I did to your car, just before your graduation?" she asked, leaving everyone, apart from her brother, guessing.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, laughing slightly, "Art it is then. And as beautiful as it was, I must say that you should restrict yourself from using the cars as the canvas."

She giggled. "I promise."

Charles raised his eyebrow, obviously not fully believing her, but he left it and turned to Hank. "And you?"

Beast swallowed. "Me? But I…"

"Yes you. Out of all of us you're probably the most qualified, if not over so."

"But I…" he looked down at himself.

Erik gritted his teeth. When was he going to get it through his thick skull? He should be proud of what he was, not scared! He opened his mouth to say something, but was caught by Charles' glare. _No. You'll only make it harder for him to accept himself._

Closing his mouth again, he picked up the empty plates and went into the kitchen, dumping them into the sink so they could be washed later. He took his time coming back, trying to let his mind calm down, but he was also thinking about what he should teach. There was no chance he was going to be cooped up in a room all day; the memories attached them too hard to confront, so that ruled out almost every subject there was, but he wasn't terribly fond of physical education either… In fact, the entire prospect of teaching wasn't all that appealing, but since it was what Charles wanted, he knew he'd have to comply.

"Ah, there you are."

Looking up from his thoughts, Erik noticed that they were all looking at him. The attention made him feel uncomfortable, so he tried to dismiss it as he sat back down, turning to face his friend, though it was hard to ignore their eyes.

"Hank's decided that he wants to teach Maths and Literature, and I thought that I should probably teach the sciences." He folded his hands in front of him. "You could teach languages if you'd like… or history…"

"I'm not going to be confined to a room Charles!" He exclaimed, and he let his mind drift, remembering what his lessons had been like Germany; the disgrace of standing in front of the class and being told that you were inferior, how everyone, friend and foe alike, stood against him, and his lessons with Schmidt in… _that_ room. "No rooms…" He could feel their confused eyes on him, and it felt humiliating, but he let them look. Charles was the only one who knew the reason behind his outburst, and he wanted it to remain that way; at least for now. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault. I should have known better than to ask you to do that."

When Erik looked up again, Charles was deep in thought, so he looked apologetically at the others. Luckily, they didn't ask him why he had reacted as he did, but it was obvious by the way they were looking at him that they wanted to know, but he wasn't ready. Not yet.

"What about helping the children with their abilities?" his friend asked, eyes brightening at the prospect, "And self defence, or something like."

Erik grinned. "I don't do self defence."

"Offensive then!" Charles said, returning the smile, "You could do that outside, or in the shelters below ground."

The older man nodded. It could work. The space was big enough down there, and he would have free roam of what he could do. But there was a small problem. "How am I supposed to teach the children how to control their powers if I still don't fully understand my own?"

"That's the beauty of it though!" he replied, his eagerness beginning to show in his voice, "If the children, or students, can see that you're learning as well, then they can see how to overcome their obstacles, their fear, and just accept who they are!"

"But it could also show them that it could take years to master them!" Erik shook his head. "I could be showing them that they could be spending the rest of their lives learning how to control themselves!"

Charles smiled at him. "No, it won't."

Everyone looked at him, waiting for him to continue as he sipped his water.

"Erik, I know why you're scared," he put down his glass, "but you have nothing to be afraid of. I know you won't let what happened to you happen to anyone else," Erik's eyes dropped to the table, "but you only got so far as you did on those methods out of fear. You can only learn something when you're afraid, but you can learn so much more through patience and peace."

The metal manipulator let his words sink in. It was true. Without Charles, he'd never have been able to do what he did in Cuba. In fact, if it hadn't been for the young professor, he'd probably be dead; just some body someone would have found on a beach somewhere.

"If you're willing, there's nothing you can't do."

Erik looked up at them, their faces showing sympathy for something they didn't know about, something they could never understand. He smiled to himself. "Are you sure you want a murderer in your school?"

Sean sprayed the table with the orange juice he had been drinking and continued to have a coughing fit. "Mur… Murderer?"

Charles smiled. "I don't think Erik's going to kill anyone any time soon."

"Unless you start marching the grounds shouting 'Heil Hitler' at the top of your lungs," he grinned at them, a strange look in his eyes, "I find no reason to even think about it… unless…"

"Erik. Stop teasing them."

The older man sat back in his chair. "Come on Charles, it was only a bit of fun!"

The professor shook his head and let himself laugh.

The tension in the air dissipated slightly, but the others kept throwing the once Nazi hunter untrusting looks.

It was another few minutes before anyone spoke, and then it was only tentatively.

"Um… Charles?" Hank asked, turning to the man on his left, "When will the uh… the school open?"

"I was thinking at the beginning of the new year." The telepath replied, looking back at his newspaper.

"Great." Alex said, letting his head droop. "I thought I was done with school."

Raven laughed. "You have no idea!"

**AN - HUZZAH! Another chapter up! Okay, so I'm not entirely happy with how this one turned out, but there had to be something that happened in between last chapter and the next one. Also, I'm not sure about Erik's past, so I thought I'd make it typical of the Jewish child in Nazi Germany...**

**Thanks for everyone who voted, and I hope you liked it so far!**

**More questions to come at a later date...**


	5. Storms and Stories

There had been a storm during the night.

The wind had blown hard and the rain had fallen endlessly against the newly christened school's walls and windows, giving the residents a long and restless night. What greeted them in the morning did nothing to stem their disappointment.

The lose soil, which had up until recently been covering the underground tunnels, rooms and the Cerebro, had been blown almost completely off the site, littering the ground with mud and dirt and leaving a small portion of the underground building exposed, both to the elements and to prying governmental eyes.

It was a massive blip in their plan, and it had to be fixed as soon as possible.

Erik shook his head at the sight, hands placed on his hips as the others slowly filtered outside to join him where he stood.

"Well… that's convenient," he said, sighing.

Charles pulled a hand through his hair. "I knew it was windy last night, but I had no idea it would do so much damage!" he exclaimed. "And we can't call the construction workers back either, being so close to when we had our 'extension' built…"

Sean turned to him, eyes widening. "What? We're supposed to do this by hand?"

Everyone else turned to look at the professor who was carefully studying the task that was about to occur.

He nodded.

"Renting out a digger would not only be useless but suspicious as well, so I would suggest you all put on something you don't mind getting dirty." He smiled wryly, "It's going to be a long day."

* * *

><p>They started after breakfast, wearing their oldest or least favourite set of clothes they could find that they'd brought along, or if any of Charles' had fitted, some of those.<p>

Most of them were wearing boots of some sort, though one or two went bare footed due to the lack of shoes in their sizes, or they just wanted to feel wet mud between their toes.

There had been several shovels in the tool shed, left behind by some of the gardeners, and the group went to work as soon as they could, thinking that the sooner they started, the sooner it would be over.

Erik was wearing some of his old brown trousers that had a tear in one of the knees, the legs rolled up slightly to keep too much mud from splattering them, kept up with braces over one of his already dirty woollen shirts; sleeves kept down to hide his number. He'd decided to go bare footed, enjoying the freedom it gave him and the feeling of connection to his people.

Though he'd never had to work as his kinsmen had, he'd seen them outside of the building he'd been kept in, some not having a stitch in their feet as they worked on the frozen grounds. Sometimes he would see them, and they would be shovelling, other times it would be carrying loads from one building to another, but the worst time was when he saw them in piles, their corpses being robbed by their fellows who were so desperate to survive so as to defile their bodies.

…_Erik?_

He blinked and looked over towards where Charles was staring at him worriedly.

Erik took a breath and smiled slightly before turning back to his work, looking up at the sky before burying his shovel deep into the muck.

It was a clear, warm day, which was only to be expected after a storm like the one they'd had the night before, and it was getting warmer.

The metal manipulator knew he'd regret his choice in shirts before the day was out; it was meant for colder weather than this. In fact, he could already feel that he was giving in to the temptation to roll up his sleeves.

It wasn't even and hour before his forearms were bare, the tattoo out in the open for the world to see. He could only hope…

"Dude! What's on your arm?" Alex asked, tilting his head to get a better look from where he was stood.

Scheiße!

"It's nothing." He tried to cover it up again but it was too late.

"Is that a tattoo?" Sean asked, coming over to join Alex in his interrogation. When Erik didn't answer he smiled, taking it as a yes. "Dude that is so cool! I wish I had one."

Erik smirked slightly. "Not one like this you don't." he said quietly, looking over to where his friend was supposed to be to see if he could get some help, but the young man had gone inside to get everyone drinks a few minutes before.

"Can we see it?"

"No." He didn't care who'd said it, he could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, and he just wanted them to stop.

"Why not?"

"Because."

Someone snorted. It sounded like Hank. "That's not an answer."

"Why'd you get one if you don't want anyone to see it?" came Raven's voice.

He dove the shovel back into the ground. "I didn't want it in the first place." He stared at them, daring them to challenge him. "Now drop it."

Sean didn't get the point.

"Why would you have a tattoo if…"

That was it. Erik could feel his anger spilling over the edge, and there was nothing keeping it in. "Because I was forced to!"

Silence.

He pulled his sleeve back up his arm again and held it out for them all to see.

They gasped, Raven covering her mouth in shock.

214782. The tattoo that had been forever stained onto his being since entering that camp all those years ago.

"There." He glared at them, pulling the fabric back over his skin. "Are you happy now?"

They stood there, staring at the ground.

"I thought so."

He returned to his work, turning away from them.

For a moment, he thought that would be it, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Turning around, his eyes locked with Raven's golden gaze. She looked sad and sympathetic, and for some reason, it didn't make him angry. Just… relieved.

For a moment, the blue woman just stared at him, but then she shifted slightly. "What happened?"

He looked at them all, contemplating her question momentarily, before motioning towards the house. "We should probably sit down."

* * *

><p>After they'd taken off their shoes (or cleaned their feet in Raven and Erik's cases), they'd all sat down around the kitchen table, the glasses of cold apple and orange juice Charles had prepared for them in hand, all waiting patiently for Erik's story.<p>

The man in question was sat staring at his glass.

He took a sip and swallowed.

Well, now's as good a time as any.

"I grew up in Dusseldorf, in Germany with my parents." He began, "We owned a shop on the corner of our street; a newsagents I suppose you could call it. We lost it during the Boycott in 1933." He smirked slightly. "I don't even remember it that well, but my father kept going on about it whenever he complained about… them. I was ridiculed in school for being what I was; made to stand at the front of everyone along with all the others like me and told that I should never be trusted and called names by my teacher and fellow classmates.

"In 1939, we lost our home and jobs, and we were forced to move into the ghettos." His eyes misted over as he remembered the rank smells that wafted out of every street, the great wall that surrounded them, the bodies that had frozen out in the cold when they could not afford to house or feed themselves. "I was there for almost five years."

He took another sip from his glass, had shaking slightly at his memories. If only I had something stronger…

Charles took this as a hint and went over to a cupboard, pulling out a bottle of bourbon and pouring a glass, handing it to Erik as he sat back down.

_You don't have to say any more Erik._

Yes Charles, he looked over at his friend and smiled, I do.

"During those years, I lost some friends. Sometimes it was from the cold or the lack of food, but it was usually from the barbaric SS ideal of entertainment." He looked at them all. "They'd drive through the streets at night and stop at random, picking any building that still had a light on. Then they'd chose a floor, then a room, and whoever lived there was made to run, and if they couldn't run, they were right there." He looked down at his glass again. "Entire families made to run down the streets in whatever they'd been wearing, shoes or no, given about five seconds head start, before the soldiers brought out the machine gun."

Raven gasped and bit her lip.

"They never chose us." Erik gave a wry smile. He could feel tears beginning to form, but he quickly blinked them away. "In 1944, I was forced into a cargo train, along with hundreds of others, and taken to Poland. When we arrived, I was separated from my parents. That was when I fist discovered I was a mutant."

Sean frowned.

Erik sighed. "The children were taken to a different part of the camp, but I didn't want to be separated from my mother, so I tried to reach her through the wire gate. Soldiers held me back, but I began to pull and bend the gate… which was over ten feet away. I don't remember much after that; I was hit over the head I think, though I do remember when I first met Schmidt, after I got this." He motioned towards his arm.

Hank frowned. "Schmidt?"

Erik looked at him. "Shaw."

Everyone's eyebrows rose in shock, barring Charles who already knew this story.

"He wanted me to move a coin, but I couldn't. I didn't know how, so he brought my mother in." He gulped. "He said he'd count to three, or he'd shoot her." He closed his eyes and rested his head on his hand. "I didn't do it in time."

There was silence for a few moments, no one sure of what to say before he continued.

"I got angry, and the soldiers who'd brought her in were wearing metal helmets so…" he shook his head at the memories of that moment. "It was the first time I'd ever killed someone."

Alex shifted uncomfortably in his chair, making it creak slightly. "First time?"

Erik sighed. "I'm not proud of what I did between then and now, but I did… remove several of my tormentors from this world. The final one being Shaw."

They sat in silence for almost a minute.

It was an uncomfortable silence, and Erik hated it.

"I suppose we should probably get back to work."

Charles nodded. "Yes, we should."

No one moved.

"Right… that hole isn't going to fill itself." Erik stood and walked out, leaving them all to stare after him in wonder.

**AN - Well, I know it took a while, but here it is... finally. It was really hard to figure out a way for Erik to 'spill the beans', and this seemed the best idea, though I'm not 100% happy with it.**

**I hope I didn't fail to please too much, but I've been distracted lately (mostly by other fanfictions I'm reading and writing, exams and university deadlines).**

**I should be starting to bring in some new characters in the next few chapters, and would love your opinion on who (movie or comic verse) though I don't promise they'll get in, as it has to fit in with the movie-verse timeline.**

**Thanks to everyone who's been so patient, and I hope you enjoyed it.**


	6. The Rescue

**The Rescue**

Covering the tunnels and the like took almost a week of constant shovelling due to the backlash the winds gave them at night. During this time, books had been delivered, blackboards set up and desks arranged in the various rooms that had been allocated for lessons.

Unfortunately though, Cerebro was still unfinished, so Charles was forced to wait even longer to find these students and teachers.

However, the young professor was already planning something, and everyone could see it.

It was just after lunch and Erik was sat in the library reading one of the many books Charles seemed to have collected on evolution and mutation, though carefully avoided Darwin, having read it several times before. He was about to start the next chapter when there came a knock at the door.

Sighing, he put a piece of paper in his page and put the book down on the desk beside him.

"Come in!"

As soon as he'd spoken, his friend burst through the door, his smile screaming the enthusiasm he was holding within him.

"Erik! Good," he said quickly, "I need you to help me with this one case. Well, when I say case, I mean the parents. And when I say the parents, I mean the father, and-"

"Slow down, Charles!" the metakenetic said, holding up his hands, "Sit down, and take a breath."

The Professor did as he was asked, the leather giving off a slight squeak from the contact.

"Now, start from the beginning."

"Well, do you remember I told you about the time I had to convince the members of the CIA believe in the existence of Mutants?"

He nodded, "Yes. You said something about reading their minds before Raven became… Agent Stryker, wasn't it?"

"Precisely!" he beamed. "Now, you see, Agent Stryker's son, a Captain _William_ Stryker. Also has a son. This child is a mutant, like us."

One of Erik's eyebrows rose. "And you want us to recruit him?" The whole thing sounded rather ridiculous. Surely the Captain wouldn't want them to take his son away from him!

Charles shook his head, "William, just like his father, hates mutants, and he knows his son is one. If we help Jason, the child, then we will help his family understand that mutants are not to be feared."

Erik frowned. "And what makes you think we can convince them?"

"Family."

The reply was succinct and simple… and it might just work.

"When do we leave?"

Charles threw him a set of car keys, his reactions kicking in as they landed in his outstretched hand.

"Now."

* * *

><p>Travelling into a military facility was one of the last things Erik had expected to do considering what had happened during the recent developments in the 'Cold War', as everyone seemed to be naming it, especially since the incident in Cuba. And yet here they were, bold as brass in one of Charles' cars, travelling through what appeared to be a suburban area of the compound.<p>

The buildings were uniform bungalows, and each lawn was fenced off with white picket fences. There were a few washing lines out with dark coloured clothes hanging from them, along with a few dresses of various colours, and every so often there would be some smaller clothes on those lines.

The thought that people like the men on those ships all those weeks ago could have children that were mutants hadn't even crossed his mind until then. Now, the thought that he had the power to destroy those lives made him shiver.

Even though they were humans, the fact that they had the potential to form the next step in human made them a little more bearable.

As the car made its way down the road, a few of the women that had been tending to the garden glanced at them, a few of the children waved and some boys playing Cowboys and Indians decided to pretend to shoot at it, pretending it was some kind of dangerous buffalo.

Soon enough, Charles indicated that he should pull over next to a near indistinguishable building, outside of which a young woman stood hanging the washing on the line, her brunette hair tied back in a ponytail, curls cascading over her back like a waterfall.

Once out of the car, Erik let his friend lead.

"Excuse me," the young professor said, coming closer to the gate in the fence, making the young woman turn, "Are you Mrs Stryker?"

She gave him a wary smile, "Yes, why do you ask?"

Charles gave her one of his warm smiles, "My name is Professor Charles Xavier," he held out a hand to her, which she shook tentatively, "And this is my friend, Erik Lehnsherr," Erik shook he hand, though his face remained masked, "We're here to talk about your son."

Her face paled dramatically, eyes widening slightly. "Son? What… What are you talking about? My husband I don't have any children."

The two men glanced at each other briefly.

"So you're saying that you didn't give birth to a Jason William Stryker on the fifth of May, nineteen fifty three?"

The grip on the bag of pegs she was holding tightened, but she remained silent.

Charles took a small step back, his features becoming more solemn. "We are here to help. To teach him. We don't mean to cause any harm."

Biting her lip, the woman nodded before heading towards the house, picking her washing basket up as she went.

Following closely behind, the pair soon found themselves in a fairly spacious kitchen in front of what appeared to be a cabinet.

"It's behind there," she said after a while, leaving them to retreat into the garden again.

Staring at the wooden doors of the cabinet, Erik let his eyes go unfocussed as he reached out towards it. He could feel the metal of the key holes and door handles, along with the few guns that had been stored inside, but then, as he reached past it, he felt the locks of the door behind… and chains that lay motionless beyond. No! They moved! Just briefly enough to show signs of life.

Relaying this information to the telepath, they both moved the cabinet out of the way, pushing it along already smooth tracks worn into the carpet. The sight that greeted them made them freeze.

The door the cabinet had been placed in front of had at least five different locks on it, several chains and two metal bars placed across it, held in place by brackets on each side.

A child was kept in here?

Erik had the locks opened in a moment, the poles flying onto the table as the chains shattered, falling uselessly onto the floor. As the door flew open, he could feel the remains of his lunch wanting to resurface.

Squeezed in to the corner of the small, windowless room was a small skeleton of a boy, his two mismatched eyes wide with fear, staring up at them beneath a mop of filthy brown hair, the rags he wore barely enough to prevent him from shivering. Around his wrists and ankles were the manacles and chains that prevented him from moving further than a metre from that spot, the bare skin underneath red and cut from the lack of protection.

Unable to hold onto the contents of his stomach due to the stench that had begun to waft out of the cell, Charles had run to the sink, leaving Erik at the door under that gaze.

Holding out his hands in front of him in a sign of friendship, ha began to approach the boy.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quietly and slowly, lowering himself onto his knees, ignoring the material his trousers came in contact with, "I'm here to help you. I promise."

As he drew closer, the lad pushed himself further into the wall, drawing his arms and legs to his chest.

The man stopped.

"I'm going to take the chains off, okay?" he asked, reaching out to the metal of the cuffs, sliding the locks open and pulling the offensive things from the boy's appendages.

Jason gasped as his ties fell away, staring down at them as though they were snakes.

"See?" Erik continued, holding out his hand for the abused child, though not too close. He knew from personal experience that it would have to be the young boy that made the first move. "That's much better, isn't it."

Jason glared at his hand, moving his eyes between his face and the strange thing before him. Finally, it seemed he'd decided on something.

Using the wall as a support, he stood up, the long stained shirt he wore reaching down to his knees, and he moved towards his saviour, arm outstretched and fingers reaching.

Expecting him to hold his hand, Erik was surprised when Jason moved past it and touched his temple.

_Erik, no!_

Suddenly, the room fell away and he was caught in the storm of images that was his childhood. He saw the moments with his mother, the times he spent with his father avoiding the Nazis, how he was torn away from them, Schmidt and the torture he was forced to endure, the pain just as vivid now as it was then. His hands came instinctively to the sides of his head, his mouth opening in a silent cry.

He saw the camps, the way his people had been treated and the places they had been kept, just has he had, the pointless beatings, the mind numbing work, starvation, disease and the like. He saw how he had hunted and killed those responsible for the deaths, and then Charles, Raven and the others, and the feeling of safety and acceptance filled him.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over, and he felt his warm tears falling down his cheeks.

Looking up, he found Jason in a similar situation, his lip quivering and his shoulders shaking, nose wet like his cheeks. Stumbling into his arms, Jason wept into Erik's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his neck in an embrace that felt binding, as though he were the only thing keeping him from sliding into insanity.

Swiftly, yet more memories swarmed his mind in the form of pictures and sounds, only this time they weren't his own…

He saw how Jason had first shown his parents his ability and how horrified they had been. They locked him away, his father beating him and forbidding his wife to free him, only feeding him a few times a week. He saw how Jason's father came into this room drunk and beat him again and again whilst his mother stood by and did nothing.

It was only a small burst of images, but it was enough.

Rubbing the poor boy's back, Erik tried to process everything that had just happened.

"Shh, sh, it's alright, it's okay," he murmured, trying to calm his thoughts, "You're safe now, you're safe."

Jason nodded, but his grip remained strong.

Sighing, Erik stood, holding the small body close to his chest, and turned out of the room.

Charles was looking extremely pale, but he was smiling. _Well done my friend, well done._

Returning his smile, be it small, the older man passed his friend, shutting the door behind him and placing the bars and bolts back in place, the professor moving the cabinet back in place.

As they made their way back to the car, they avoided even looking at the woman who had refused to acknowledge her son's existence, though it took everything Erik had to keep himself from swearing at her in every language he knew as the bundle in his arms would have prevented him from doing anything else. From mutual agreement, Erik slid into the back seat, Jason still not letting go.

Once they had driven away, the young boy relaxed considerably, but he refused to be left alone, so he remained on Erik's lap for the entire journey.

**AN - Don't kill me! Please! I didn't mean to leave it for so long! Really! #ducks away from various assortments of abilities and miscellaneous# I am seriously SO sorry! I got caught up with my other stories and then all of my exams and... God I feel so bad for abandoning this for so long! Will you guys ever forgive me?**

**Anyway, I had a massive writer's block for this chapter back in January (#dodged boulders and hate mail#) so I left it for a bit, but since watching the movie again last week, I had a massive brain wave, and this is what became of it! Be it a little darker than what I first intended...**

**As I said I would last time, I brought in at least one new character! There will be more, but you'll have to wait for that (and no, it won't be half a year this time). Thank you so much to everyone who's still following this story! Your patience is admirable and saintly!**

**I listened to 'Frauenklage' by Helium Vola whilst writing this chapter, in case you were wondering.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, though I'm afraid I won't be asking you any more questions any time soon, and I will update _much_ sooner than last time! I promise!**


	7. New Home, New Family

**New Home, New Family**

Due to the gravel that surrounded the mansion turned school, Erik was forced to carry Jason inside, holding him next to his chest as the boy's fingers grasped the fabric of his sweater, the man's jacket around his shoulders. Even though he was far from healthy, the young mutant had refused to sleep in the car, still too terrified of what would lie behind his closed eyes.

As the two men came closer to the front doors, they flew open as Raven, all smiles and innocence came charging out in all her great sapphire glory.

"Charles! Erik! You're back early! Did you…"

She froze, eyes wide as her hand flew over her mouth.

"Raven, I want you to run a bath," Charles told her, "I'll see if I can find some of my old clothes."

Nodding, the young lady ran back inside, soon followed by her brother.

Luckily, Jason hadn't been paying the new acquaintance much attention, far too fascinated with the vast brick building to take any notice of the blue woman. His grip on Erik's shirt lessened slightly from the lack of an audience, though he pulled himself further into his chest.

"Erik," he said, his voice sweet and quiet, though slightly rough from the dryness of his throat, "where are we?"

"This is a school for people with special gifts," he replied, "like you. It's a place where people like us can live in peace. Welcome to your new home."

Smiling, the young boy looked up at the doorway as they approached it. "Home."

The word sounded like as alien concept coming out of his mouth, and it only reminded Erik of the way he had felt when the Russians had liberated the camp he had been kept in. It didn't seem right for a child of such a young age to have gone through something so similar to his own experiences to make him react in such a way.

Remaining silent as he carried Jason through the halls, Erik maneuvered them into the kitchen, leading him to the sink. It was almost dinner time, but he had a feeling that neither he nor their new guest would be able to stomach any heavy foods for a while.

After washing his own hands, he helped Jason with his own before leading him to one of the chairs around the table. Grabbing a glass, he filled it at the tap and snatched a few bananas and a bowl from the fruit bowl and cupboard. They had to eat something, right?

Placing the glass in front of the young mutant, he took a seat opposite him and began to peel the skin off of the fruit, the container now sat between his elbows.

Hesitantly, Jason picked up the water and took a sip before placing it back down on the table, his eyes watching Erik's fingers.

Picking up a knife from the pot in the middle of the table, the metal bender began to slice the banana, letting the pieces drop into the bowl with soft _thumps_. Once two of the yellow fruits had been sliced, Erik pushed the bowl in front of the boy, peeling another for himself.

It was only after Erik had taken the first bite that Jason picked up one of the slices, bringing it slowly to his mouth, still far too wary of any threats. Once he had swallowed the first piece, the others followed in quick succession, and it wasn't long before the bowl was empty, though it was clear from the way he held his arms around his stomach that it was a bad idea for him to eat much more so soon after his previous... diet.

Knowing it would still be some time before the bath would be ready, the metakinetic collected the waste and dumped it in the bin, leaving the bowl in the sink.  
>"Would you like me to show you to your room?" he asked, standing behind his chair as he looked across at his charge.<p>

Nodding, Jason pushed his chair back and jumped off, picking up his unfinished drink and trotting to his side.

Just about to set off, Erik paused as he felt the unfamiliar sensation of small fingers sliding around his own, squeezing them tightly, and he became aware of the young mind brushing against his own, seeking the protection and certainty he seemed to find there.

Erik smiled down at him. "Come on, follow me."

* * *

><p>The room Charles had picked out for the boy was on the first floor, overlooking the basketball court. There were four beds in the room (all built within the past few weeks) and a bathroom just down the hallway. The windows were large enough for the entire room to be flooded by sunlight, and they seemed to fascinate him.<p>

A small pile of clothes had been folded into neat piles at the end of the bed, along with a pair of well-worn trainers and some towels, and Jason was carefully studying them.

The shirts were mostly the usual buttoned up type, a few short sleeved and a few long, though there were one or two polo shirts thrown in there as well. There was also a few pairs of trousers, mostly in a beige colour, and a jumper or two, but the thing that seemed to fascinate Jason the most was the belt.

Erik could remember from those images Jason had shown him that the belt, though not the prominent weapon of choice, had been the most memorable of all of William Stryker's 'tools', having featured in most of the scenes shown him. Silently cursing himself for neglecting to share the information, he picked up the offending piece of clothing and threw it out the door, closing it behind him.

Turning back around, he found that the young Telepath was still staring at the spot where the belt had been, shivers running through his body and he looked as though he was going to collapse in a heap.

"Jason?"

Nothing. Just a quickening in breathing that spoke of the chaos inside.

"Jason!"

Blinking, the boy looked up at him, his eyes full of tears and memories; memories that deserved to be forgotten.

Before he knew it, the lad's thin arms were wrapped around his waist, his head buried in the folds of his sweater as the tears finally revealed themselves.  
>Unable to move out of shock, Erik stood like a scarecrow, arms outstretched as he stared down at the strange sight. When the boy refused to move, he slowly lowered his hands, letting them lie on his head and back.<p>

Saying nothing, the man rubbed Jason's back, knowing that small sign of affection would be the difference between the child's breaking point and a road to recovery. If only someone had been there for him…

* * *

><p>The bath had been filled and the belt removed from the landing along with everyone's wardrobes, so draw string trousers were suddenly extremely popular with the inhabitants of the Xavier mansion. It had been a day since their new arrival, but he had yet to make an appearance to anyone other than Charles and Erik. And so, yet another meeting had been called.<p>

However, getting everyone together was one thing, but convincing Jason that none of the people in that room would harm him was another.

As soon as Charles had suggested it, Jason had paled considerably and locked himself in his room. Erik could easily have opened it, and the boy knew that, but he remained outside, waiting for his reappearance.

It had been nearly an hour since the young professor had made his suggestion, and everyone had arrived in the television room to wait, but still the door hadn't opened.

Giving up on standing some time before, Lehnsherr was sat next to the door, leaning against the wall.

"I promise you, my friends will not harm you," he said for what felt like the thousandth time, knowing he would get no reply in return, "I trust them with my life. You saw it yourself in my thoughts when…" He broke himself off, wincing slightly at where that sentence was leading.

As expected, he received no reply for his efforts.

He sighed. "You don't have to meet them all at once." He heaved himself to his feet. "I won't force you to do it now, but you're going to have to do it sooner or later if you're going to live here. You're bound to run into them sooner or later."

Looking at the door again, he shook his head and began to make his way down the corridor towards the stairs… until he heard a faint _click_.

Turning back around, he found Jason stood clutching the side of the door wearing some of the clothes Charles had given him, though his feet remained bare. They really didn't suit him.

"You promise?" he asked, his fingers white from gripping the wood so hard.

"I promise," he replied holding out his hand.

Slowly, tentatively, Jason made his way towards him and curled his fingers around Erik's, holding a fist to his lips, the fear in his eyes clearly visible, though there was a hint of courage mixed within.

They made their way down the stairs in relative silence, the creak of the wood beneath their feet the only thing that made a sound other than the old grandfather clock in the main hallway. Well, apart from the raised voices that were emerging from a certain room.

As Erik rolled his eyes, he felt the grip on his hand tighten.

"Don't worry," he said, "I'm here."

Jason nodded and took a deep breath.

The closer they got to the television room, the closer Jason got to his savior until it got to the point where he was practically hugging the man.

_Don't worry, _came a familiar voice, _I'll get them all settled._

By the time the two of them reached the door, the voices had been silenced. Erik didn't know whether that was better or not though.

"Would you like to knock?" he asked, pulling the boy out from behind him.

Raising his fist, Jason tapped the door lightly, barely making any sound at all.

"Come in," came a voice from inside, sounding unmistakably feminine.

Taking hold of the handle with both hands and taking another breath, he opened the door.

Raven was in her 'human' form sitting on the seat in the window, Sean and Alex were seated on opposite ends of a sofa, trying very hard not to look at each other (probably the reason behind the raised voices) and Charles was in an armchair that had been moved so that it would be facing the whole room instead of the television.

The professor smiled as he stood, his sudden movements making Jason step back into Erik.

"I'm sorry," Charles said, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's okay," the boy replied, though he didn't move.

"I'm sorry all the same." He took another step forwards but no more when he noticed the boy's hand holding onto Erik's trousers. "I suppose I should introduce you to everyone."

Jason shook his head. "I already know who you all are."

The others looked a little shocked, but Charles just smirked, "Of course you do."

"You're Alex Summers," he said, pointing at the blonde boy, "you can shoot lasers! And you're Sean Cassidy, and you can fly because Erik pushed you off the satellite!"

Erik snickered as the Banshee's face fell.

"And you're Raven Xavier!" Jason continued, letting go of Erik's trousers as he blushed slightly, "But... I think you look a lot prettier when you're blue."

Lips turning into a soft smile, Raven let herself slowly morph into her original form. "Better?"

Looking up, Jason smiled, "Much better. But where's Hank McCoy? Is he frightened he'd scare me?"

Erik shook his head. Not moments before he'd been a quivering wreck that was terrified of coming in contact with anyone, barring him of course, and now he was _asking_ to see more? Wonder what had changed...

_I suspect it has something to do with that little talk you had upstairs._

Looking at Charles, he raised an eyebrow.

Oh?

_He feels safe with you here,_ the Telepath explained, _and the fact that your connection to the boy doesn't bother him is something he's not had in a long time. I expect he's trying to face his fears rather than let them haunt him. He must have learnt that from you._

Learnt it from...?

Putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, Jason looked up at him, his eyes still swimming with that fear, though the contact seemed to make him relax slightly. He felt safe because he said he was going to protect him, and that was exactly what he was going to do.

**AN - Not exactly what I was planning to write, but at least I wrote something.**

**After finding out I didn't pass my course in college, I was feeling a little down, but then this afternoon I got an e-mail from the University I want to go to saying I got in! WHOOP! #jumps over the moon and does the moon walk# You have no idea how happy that made me! I'm on a high I won't be able to come off of for days!**

**Anywho... I was listening to 'Sub Lift' from the X-Men First Class Soundtrack for this update.**

**I hope you guys liked it! And I hope I won't keep you waiting too long for the next update!**


End file.
